Today, millions of eyes will be glued to the court as LSU and Duke face off in the NCAA Women’s Basketball Sweet 16, a matchup hyped as a clash of titans in a tournament that generates billions for the NCAA and its corporate sponsors. But behind the dazzling athleticism and March Madness spectacle lies a brutal truth: the NCAA is a predatory monopoly that exploits women athletes, denying them fair compensation while raking in record profits. As the cameras roll and the betting odds flash across screens, it’s worth asking—who really benefits from this game? Spoiler: it’s not the players.
The NCAA’s Billion-Dollar Scam
The NCAA women’s basketball tournament is a cash cow. In 2025, the NCAA signed an $8.8 billion deal with ESPN to broadcast March Madness through 2032, a windfall that doesn’t trickle down to the athletes who make the tournament possible. Women’s basketball, in particular, has seen explosive growth in recent years, with viewership for the 2024 championship game (LSU vs. Iowa) topping 10 million for the first time. Yet despite this surge in popularity, the NCAA continues to treat women athletes as unpaid laborers, forbidden from profiting off their own names, images, and likenesses (NIL) until a 2021 Supreme Court ruling forced a partial reckoning.
Even now, the NIL system is a farce. While male athletes in revenue-generating sports like football and men’s basketball can rake in millions from endorsements, women athletes—especially in non-revenue sports—are left scrambling for crumbs. The average NIL deal for a women’s basketball player is a fraction of what their male counterparts earn, and the NCAA’s byzantine rules ensure that most athletes never see a dime. Meanwhile, the NCAA’s president, Charlie Baker, took home $3.9 million in 2024, a salary funded by the unpaid labor of thousands of college athletes.
The Illusion of Amateurism
The NCAA’s defense of its exploitative model rests on the myth of amateurism—a relic of 19th-century elitism that treats athletes as hobbyists rather than professionals. This fiction was exposed in 2021 when the Supreme Court unanimously ruled in NCAA v. Alston that the organization’s restrictions on education-related benefits violated antitrust laws. Justice Brett Kavanaugh’s concurring opinion was scathing: "The NCAA is not above the law." Yet despite this legal defeat, the NCAA has doubled down on its exploitation, lobbying Congress for a federal law that would override state NIL regulations and cement its control over athletes’ earnings.
For women athletes, the stakes are even higher. The NCAA has a long history of devaluing women’s sports, from the infamous 2021 weight room scandal—where the men’s tournament was outfitted with a lavish gym while the women’s teams were given a handful of dumbbells—to the persistent pay gap in coaching and administrative salaries. The LSU-Duke game is a prime example: while the players put their bodies on the line, the NCAA and its corporate partners (Nike, Coca-Cola, Capital One) will pocket millions in ad revenue, none of which will go to the athletes who made the game worth watching.
The Fight for Fair Compensation
The tide is turning, albeit slowly. In 2024, the National Labor Relations Board ruled that Dartmouth’s men’s basketball team could unionize, a landmark decision that could pave the way for college athletes to collectively bargain for fair wages and benefits. Women athletes, too, are organizing. The NIL Equity Project, launched by former WNBA player Nneka Ogwumike, aims to close the gender gap in endorsement deals, while advocacy groups like the Athlete’s Coalition are pushing for federal legislation to guarantee fair compensation for all college athletes.
But the NCAA won’t give up its cash cow without a fight. The organization has spent millions lobbying against player compensation, arguing that paying athletes would "destroy the spirit of college sports." What they really mean is that it would cut into their profits. The LSU-Duke game is a reminder that the NCAA’s model is built on theft: the theft of athletes’ labor, their health, and their futures. While the players on the court today will be celebrated as heroes, most will graduate with no long-term financial security, their bodies worn down by years of unpaid labor.
Why This Matters:
The LSU-Duke matchup is more than just a basketball game—it’s a microcosm of how capitalism exploits labor under the guise of tradition and entertainment. The NCAA is a $1.1 billion-a-year enterprise that treats athletes as disposable commodities, while the billionaire coaches, administrators, and corporate sponsors reap the rewards. For women athletes, the exploitation is even more egregious, as they fight for recognition in a system that has historically undervalued their contributions.
This isn’t just about fair pay; it’s about justice. The NCAA’s model is a form of wage theft, plain and simple. The athletes who generate billions in revenue deserve a share of the profits, safe working conditions, and the right to unionize. The fact that they are denied these basic rights is a scandal, one that should outrage every worker who has ever been told to be grateful for scraps while the bosses feast.
The fight for fair compensation in college sports is part of a larger struggle for workers’ rights. Whether it’s the NCAA’s exploitation of athletes, Amazon’s abuse of warehouse workers, or the NFL’s war on referees, the message is the same: the ruling class will always prioritize profit over people. But the tide is turning. As athletes organize and fans demand accountability, the NCAA’s monopoly is under threat. The question is whether we’ll settle for crumbs—or demand the whole damn pie.